


Joyride

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Day Off, Driving, Gen, World of Ruin, car geeks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 12:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Cindy asks Ignis for help on his day off. (Ignis Fluff Week Day 5: Day Off)





	Joyride

_Hey there, good-lookin'_ was the only warning Ignis got before he was caught up in one of Cindy's rare – but not unwelcome – hugs. He returned it gingerly, putting his hand stiffly on what he assumed was the middle of her back, and was half-relieved when she broke the embrace a moment later. He'd never been good with physical affection. "What's shaking?"

"Nothing, and knock on wood it stays that way."

Cindy laughed, and rapped on something with her knuckles (the door-frame? The desk?). "So you're not busy? I'm heading out on a little jaunt – if you got time..."

"Certainly." While passing through Hammerhead, Ignis always endeavored to be of use. He could help with the cooking, though he needed to be careful that others didn't forget he was capable of more. He hunted, and exchanged information, and did everything in his power to maintain the facility's security. He'd failed to keep Galdin Quay from falling to the daemons; he'll be cursed himself before he let another settlement be taken. "It's my day off."

This earned him a swat to the arm. "You boys don't got any idea how to kick back and relax."

"And you do?" Cindy made a small noise of non-confirmation. "Precisely."

She huffed, half-laugh and half feigned irritation, and grabbed him by the hand, giving him a moment to collect his cane before shifting her grip to his elbow and pushing him out of the hunter's headquarters, in the direction of the garage. "I've been working on something. Finally got her fixed up. Thought – you know – Solstice is coming up and all."

"You're giving your girlfriend a car," Ignis deduced. "That's... incredibly romantic."

"Right?" Ignis heard the change in the echoes of their voices and footsteps that signaled proximity to a wall, and he slowed, letting Cindy take the lead in opening the door. He supposed that was unmannerly of him, but he _despised_ groping around in the dark for things like doorknobs... and doors, and everything else. "Armor-plated and everything. Figure I'll tie a bow around the side mirror. Here she is." Cindy stopped, and Ignis got the sense that she had straightened with pride and excitement.

He reached out and found cool glass; from there it was easy enough to walk around and inspect the vehicle. Four doors, a spacious trunk already stocked with spare tires and ammo, soft leather seats, a plush moogle _for luck_ on the dash, and a military-salvage gun rack.

"Not in the same class as your baby," Cindy said, like that was simple fact. "But she's real pretty. Painted her yellow and pink, like the sunrise." She jingled the keys. "Want to see how she rides?"

Of course Ignis did.

As they pulled out of the compound, Cindy stopping first to file her travel plan with the gate guard, Ignis checked the radio, making sure they'd be able to call for assistance – or pick up any distress calls from other travelers. The roads weren't safe these days.

But he found himself relaxing as Cindy headed south on the main road toward Longwythe. Unlike certain others, she drove like it was a science and an art, fully aware of what she could do with the machine she controlled. After a few minutes, Ignis asked if he could roll down the window and was told to make himself at home.

The ride was smooth enough that he had trouble gauging their speed, but by testing the wind rushing by the window he could make a fairly good guess, he thought, and asked.

"You're close," Cindy said. She sounded pleased. "This stretch of road, there ain't much traffic ever, so I usually go one-twenty on the straightways. We're a bit over that now. This girl just wants to fly." She told him how the car had been uncovered in a scrapyard up by Formouth, and how the engine'd been gutted. "Paw-paw nearabout cried, but we rebuilt her good as new."

"Better, I imagine, knowing you," Ignis murmured, and asked for specifics. While he was by no means an expert on cars, he fancied he was more knowledgeable than the average driver, and Cindy seemed pleased to answer his questions. As she spoke, his mental image of the car grew sharper and more detailed, and from memory he filled in the landscape around them. The air outside was cool, and he could almost imagine a blue sky above, and the pale sunlight. "Are the headlights on?"

Cindy snorted. "We're running supplies down to the outpost, not trying to bring every daemon in these parts running. Blondie picked me up a pair of night-vision goggles, and I got infrared driving lights installed. Daemons don't seem to be attracted to 'em, least not so far."

"It would make a poor present indeed if the car acted as a beacon," Ignis said, and then reconsidered. "Though she might enjoy a rousing slaughter."

"That's my honey," Cindy said proudly. "Say – we should talk about _your_ love life."

"No. No, I manage just fine without any assistance." Ignis leaned back and stretched his legs out as far as he could. "Tell me more about the car."

Cindy shifted, leaning forward for a moment. "Here, catch." Two of Ignis' least favorite words these days – Gladio had nailed him with several Ebony cans before being persuaded to just hand them over – but he raised his hands nonetheless. Something soft and furry hit his palms, and he smiled involuntarily, recognizing the moogle toy. "We got another half hour to go, so Buttercup'll have to be my substitute hugger. Hang onto her, y'hear?"

"Loud and clear." Ignis tucked the moogle into the crook of his arm. He'd never had plush animals himself; it was oddly comforting, for an inanimate object. Perhaps when Gladio badgered him about what he wanted for his birthday (yet again), he'd ask for one. What he wouldn't give to see Gladio's expression at _that_.

"Let's gossip about the people we know," Cindy suggested. "You were in Lestallum, tell me what everyone's up to. Like if anyone fell for Gladio's lines yet, and how's Holly doing. And I'll tell you all the latest on Paw-paw's old flame."

That was news to Ignis, and he was unexpectedly intrigued. He supposed he could share a few stories with Cindy, to satisfy his curiosity. He was feeling calm for the first time in... months, most likely. He'd always found driving restful when he was behind the wheel, but rarely when he wasn't: he didn't trust others with his life easily. But he knew he was in safe hands now.

He ran his fingers over the fur on the moogle's head around the bobbly thing, deciding on a good story to tell. Something funny – ah. Cindy, he thought, would appreciate the story of Gladio's trousers splitting mid-battle, and him having to continue the fight bare-assed and balls swinging – he ought to be able to work in an over-exposure pun easily. Perhaps he could pull a few strings later and get her copies of the pictures, even. He know Prompto had been threatened with death if he didn't delete, but surely he'd have made backups.

"We've all been sworn to secrecy," he started, "so this is just between us."

"Cross my heart," Cindy said solemnly. "You can trust me with anything."

Ignis closed his eye – he found that helped, for some reason, to set the scene in his mind's eye. "Very well," he began, and as he talked, the kilometers flew by, replete with laughter, like a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I meant to do a drabble a day! No wonder I'm behind...


End file.
